


Alone at Last

by OTPshipper98



Series: Harry Potter in English [22]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Bickering, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Smut, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rutting, Sexual Inexperience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 02:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17674667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPshipper98/pseuds/OTPshipper98
Summary: All they'd done so far was make out behind library shelves and the occasional groping in the Quidditch showers when they both arrived earlier than their eighth-year team. But today — today everyone had left for Christmas and they had the Gryffindor dormitory to themselves. And so Draco was naked on Harry Potter's bed.





	Alone at Last

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FleetofShippyShips](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/gifts).



> This is what happens when a writer of fluff decides to try writing smut.
> 
> Thanks to FleetofShippyShips for the amazing betaing and flailing! <3

Draco had once believed the one thing about Harry Potter that made him come undone was his sharp tongue. Harry’s snide remarks had always done _something_ to him — something Draco had taken a bit too long to understand was far more than what he should've felt for his nemesis.

But now… now he knew better.

Their lips slid together, and Draco had to lean down a bit to catch Harry’s mouth in a proper kiss. He wanted to taste all of Harry, to feel all of him.

“Come here,” Harry ordered against his lips, and Draco complied. He placed his knees on either side of Harry's hips and sat down on his thighs — a bit clumsily, since he hadn't stopped kissing Harry. He couldn't get enough of him.

They were both naked. They'd never gotten so far before. All they'd done so far was make out behind library shelves and the occasional groping in the Quidditch showers when they both arrived earlier than their eighth-year team. But today — today everyone had left for Christmas and they had the Gryffindor dormitory to themselves. And so Draco was naked on Harry Potter's bed, sitting on his lap, hands roaming over warm skin and breath hitching at every brush of fingers against him.

Harry trapped Draco in a tight embrace — one hand in Draco's hair, the other on his lower back, arms locking him in place. It was almost possessive, and it sent a thrill down Draco's spine. He'd seen the way Harry liked to take control before — the way Harry had pinned him to a wall and sucked at his lip and neck several times already — but this was… different. More intimate. Less rushed.

It was intoxicating.

Harry brushed his lips down Draco's cheek and traced his jawline with the tip of his tongue. And oh, that tongue. Hadn't he been fantasizing about it a moment before? Fuck, but did he love it. Everything Harry said, and everything he _did_ with it, was just… otherworldly.

“I love it when you gasp like that.”

Draco hadn't even processed the words when Harry caught his earlobe between his teeth and _sucked_. Draco's breath hitched, his hips jumped a bit. Harry hummed in approval and moved his hand just a little bit lower until he brushed the top of Draco's arse.

He had no idea something so simple could feel so intense. A single caress, a single flick of a tongue against his lobe. Their chests brushing together. His cock touching Harry's warm, firm belly. Their thighs flush against each other. It was all so new and exhilarating it was becoming harder and harder to control his breathing and the soft moans that were escaping him.

While Harry sucked at a soft spot just under his ear, Draco traced the lines of Harry’s chest, his sides, his arms, his collarbones. His fingers brushed a nipple, and the soft sounds Harry was making against his skin turned into a puff of air that made Draco shudder. Harry caught his earlobe again and traced a quick, light pattern around it.

“Merlin, your tongue.”

“You like it?” Harry said, a bit breathless, a bit cheekily. He cupped Draco’s head and angled it a bit to press a soft kiss on his pulse point. Draco groaned.

“Fuck, I—I love it.”

Harry licked his way along the curve of Draco’s neck, then ever-so-gently bit down on the skin just under his jaw. Draco gasped. Harry had only done that once before, one evening behind the greenhouses, and Draco had been hoping for it to happen again for _weeks._  Harry had been so hesitant back then, asking Draco if he wanted it, if he’d liked it.

All his hesitancy was gone now, and Draco couldn’t have been happier about it.

“I want to make you feel so good.”

Draco sighed as Harry's words made air brush over the wet skin of his neck again. He grabbed Harry's hair and pulled his head back to see his face. For a moment, he forgot what he was going to say, struck by how beautiful Harry looked without his glasses, with his lips parted and wet, his hair a mess between Draco's fingers. “I want to make you feel good too,” he breathed, bringing a thumb to Harry's cheek, to the corner of his mouth.

Harry turned his head to trap Draco's thumb between his teeth. His tongue brushed the tip of it, and Draco exhaled softly. That felt unexpectedly good. Perhaps it was because their eyes were still locked, or maybe because his whole body felt like it was shivering with how sensitive it was. Whatever the reason, Draco felt himself throb against Harry's body.

Harry's own cock was trapped against the crease of Draco's groin. The knowledge had been at the back of his mind for a few minutes now, sending steady waves of heat down his body, but it felt painfully real now that they’d stopped kissing.

Harry moved their bodies, repositioning them a bit. Draco's thumb slid away from his mouth and left a wet trail up his cheek. Draco fixated on it for a second, but was soon distracted by Harry's fingers tracing the shape of his collarbone.

“I know I've already said,” Harry murmured, “but I'm sorry about these.” He pressed the tip of his finger to the upper part of Draco's chest, almost under his armpit, where one of the biggest scars began. His other hand was still firmly holding Draco's lower back, keeping him in place.

“I know I've already said,” Draco mimicked, bringing his hand to Harry's and moving it a bit lower, to his nipple, “but I've forgiven you.” He leaned forward and brushed the tips of their noses together. Nipping at Harry's lower lip, he added, “You're an idiot, but I forgive you.”

Harry's hand moved down their chests and bellies and fell between them. It brushed Draco's thigh as well as his cock, and although it was barely even a touch, barely even there, it sent sparks of pleasure through his whole being.

“Can I touch you?”

Draco would have laughed, but a soft, desperate _yes_ parted from his lips before he could articulate any coherent thoughts.

Harry traced the inside of his thigh with slow, almost ticklish movements, then moved up, following the shape of his hip. Draco looked down, arms surrounding Harry's back, head against Harry's temple. Not caring that he was breathing raggedly almost beside Harry's ear, he watched as the tip of Harry's thumb reached out to touch his frenulum.

_Oh._

“That feel good?” Harry murmured.

“Yeah.” Draco watched as Harry’s fingers wrapped around his length, tightening his arms around Harry's shoulders in an unspoken plea for more. It was so intense, so new, it felt like he'd never even touched himself before. And fuck, Harry's cock was closer to his than before. It was making him lightheaded. He wanted to touch, but he couldn't move his hands — his fingers were sinking into the firm muscles of Harry's back, his arms sliding down and resting on Harry's. Each movement of that hand on him was making him buck his hips and gasp and shiver and _want_.

Harry was playing with his foreskin now. Draco could have melted then and there — maybe he would have if he hadn't been so fixated on the shape of Harry's erection. He'd felt it under Harry's clothes before, but… fuck. It was big. And wide. And _beautiful_.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you touch us both at the same time?”

A deep groan vibrated against Draco's chest, where Harry had just rested his forehead. “God, yeah, I can.” He moved under Draco, and Draco slid forward a bit until they were as close as they could get. The motion made their cocks brush together. Draco grasped Harry's hair again with a whimper, and Harry raised his head to look at him while he lined them up with an inexpert hand. “Fuck,” Harry groaned.

“Yeah.” Draco moved Harry's head with care so he could bring their lips together. Feeling brave, he bucked forward a bit, making the infuriatingly still pressure of Harry's hand around them a little more bearable.

Harry parted their lips to lock eyes with Draco. His expression was so surprised, so open, Draco couldn't look away. He loved Harry when he was in control, handling Draco with care, telling him how good he wanted to make him feel. But this… this look of vulnerability on his face was quickly making Draco come undone. It was what had made him fall in love with Harry in the first place. He still vividly remembered that moment of realisation — the moment he'd first seen Harry as a lost boy. How his entire perception of Harry had changed in an instant — and not just of Harry, but everything Draco had assumed Harry stood for.

After that moment, loving him had become inevitable.

Harry was wanking them now — slowly, steadily. His other hand had left Draco’s back to hold himself up as he leaned back a bit. Draco missed it on him, he realised.

He kept his eyes shut and held on to Harry as the pleasure built up inside him, making his muscles tense and his hips buck into to the quickly speeding up rhythm of Harry's hand.

“Merlin, Harry, don't—don't stop.” Moaning, he pulled at Harry's hair and clung to his shoulders. A small part of him was concerned about hurting Harry, but Harry just gasped, moving his hand faster and sighing, his mouth open against Draco's chest, teeth biting, breath dampening his skin.

Harry's movements became frantic, and pleasure overcame Draco. He almost desperately pressed against Harry, his hips falling still, his toes curling. It was only a few moments later, when he caught his breath, that he realised he'd been moaning. Loudly.

They stayed still for a moment, their bodies relaxing and leaning into each other. Harry's hand slipped from between them and onto the bed, limp and wet. His mouth was still on Draco's skin, at first breathing unevenly against his shoulder, then moving up the curve of his neck.

Draco suddenly realised Harry was kissing him. He closed his eyes again, leaning into the contact. It felt good, but… not in a sexual way. His body was sated, and he just felt… warm, sort of. Like he was being taken care of.

He brushed Harry’s hair between his fingers and held him a bit closer.

“Good?” Harry asked against his skin. Draco just hummed, too sleepy for words. He shivered as those lips brushed his collarbone. Harry’s hands were on his hips again, in a gesture of soft, gentle possessiveness, and Draco was fairly sure that was what peacefulness truly felt like.

“Clean us? I want to get inside the bed,” he uttered, resting a cheek on Harry’s shoulder when Harry pulled back. “Or… wait, you did, um, you did… didn’t you? Or should I—”

Harry chuckled, and held Draco’s lower back with an arm as he reached for his wand. “I did, silly. You just didn’t hear me over the sound of your own moans.”

“Prick,” Draco muttered.

“Hey, I did say I was going to make you feel good, didn’t I?” said Harry. “ _Scourgify._ ”

Draco groaned in reluctant approval. The sound changed to one of complaint when Harry pushed him off his lap and pulled at the bedsheets.

“Shut up and get over here, you idiot,” Harry snapped lightly. “I’m not finished kissing you silly.”


End file.
